


The History of the Daywalkers.

by BunnyJess



Category: Batman (Comics), Blade (Movie Series), Constantine: The Hellblazer (Comics), DCU, Dracula - Bram Stoker, Under the Red Hood, Van Helsing - Fandom
Genre: Angel of Decay, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blade AU, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Comfort, Daywalker, F/M, Family History, Family Reunion, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I take Liberties with three different lots of Lore, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imps - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of why Willis Todd was abusive, Nightmares, Occult, Origin of the Todd family, Other, PTSD, Swearing, Swordfighting, Triggering of Nightmares, Vampire Turning, Vampires, Werewolves, body rot, mental health recovery, mentions of body horror, power, stench of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:42:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23591020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyJess/pseuds/BunnyJess
Summary: True family? Jacinta’s thoughts ground to a halt. She didn’t have a biological family. Not anymore. Not since the vile filth opposite her had watched Joker beat her senseless. “What?” She managed to croak out. Throat sore from hours of screaming and crying.“You can be a Hunter. A Daywalker the likes of which your world has never seen. It is your destiny.” Jacinta could swear she felt fingers in her hair. Combing back her blood-matted curls and avoiding the indentations Joker had left her with. “You were destined for the role from your true family in many decades time, when you finally met your end. That has come sooner than any of us were expecting but the role is yours. You will survive. There will be no memories torn into your skin and you won’t have to dig your way out of your grave like some of your multiverse counterparts.”
Relationships: John Constantine/Female Jason Todd, John Constantine/Jason Todd, Mina Murray/Jonathan Harker, Quincy Harker/Original Female Character, potential: - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36
Collections: Jason Todd Rare Pair Challenge





	The History of the Daywalkers.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was inspired by a colouring in page I did.   
> Jacinta is the female version of the name Jason.  
> Todde is the old English for Todd.  
> This was mainly self-indulgent but I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Thank you to Garpie64 for encouraging me and being supportive of this.

The black void was creeping further across Jacinta’s vision. She knew her end was soon. She was going to die. Bruce wasn’t going to be quick enough to save her. Despite all the promises he’d made of always coming for her, Jacinta knew in that moment that Joker had made him break that promise. Potentially breaking the Bat forever.

The darkness was just about to completely black out her vision when a blinking green light appeared. At first she thought it was one of the Lanterns. Instead a voice spoke. Unearthly. A chill running down Jacinta’s spine and causing her multiple injuries to flair with pain.

“Jacinta Todd-Wayne, do you wish to survive?” The voice was weird. It sounded too close and too far away all at once. Jacinta couldn’t be sure if it was her hearing, being so close to death, or if it was whoever was behind it. “Do you wish to take up the role your true family have always held?”

True family? Jacinta’s thoughts ground to a halt. She didn’t have a biological family. Not anymore. Not since the vile filth opposite her had watched Joker beat her senseless. “What?” She managed to croak out. Throat sore from hours of screaming and crying.

“You can be a Hunter. A Daywalker the likes of which your world has never seen. It is your destiny.” Jacinta could swear she felt fingers in her hair. Combing back her blood-matted curls and avoiding the indentations Joker had left her with. “You were destined for the role from your true family in many decades time, when you finally met your end. That has come sooner than any of us were expecting but the role is yours. You will survive. There will be no memories torn into your skin and you won’t have to dig your way out of your grave like some of your multiverse counterparts.”

It was all very confusing. There was only one answer she could give however. She didn’t want to die. Jacinta had hopes, dreams, had managed to believe in them again when she’d been taken into a world unlike any she’d ever dreamed of knowing. Her voice cracked, her tongue failing at moistening her lips, “yes.”

The blinding green light washed out all the black in her vision. An unnatural figure taking shape, the form of a beautiful woman crouched in front of her. She looked ethereal, her features were a perfect example of the Fibonacci spiral. There were features Jacinta recognised though. The woman had a nose like her own, if it hadn’t been broken so often. Her hair was a startling white but the curls and texture was more similar to Jacinta’s than Sheila’s were.

Jacinta blinked. The light becoming overwhelming. When she opened her eyes again she was no longer in the warehouse. Instead she lay on a lavish bed, silk sheets far above any thread count she’d slept on before and Bruce didn’t skimp in that department. Now though, the sheets in her hand made it seem like he did.

As she pushed up to a sitting position, careful of the wounds Joker had inflicted, she realised there was no pain. Looking down at her body, clad only in the sports bra and shorts she wore under the Robin suit, there were no lacerations. No blistered, raw skin and muscle from the bomb. No torn out parts due to the crowbar. Her bones were whole.

Cautiously Jacinta ran her hand across her abdomen. There were no stab wounds. There were no tears.

She was whole.

Joker had failed.

The bastard clown had failed to rip her uterus out. Had failed to carve her ovaries into mush.

He’d failed to kill her.

Looking around the room was an unnerving experience. Everything felt new, like she was unwelcome; yet at the same time it felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be. The room, the building a place Jacinta was always supposed to be.

A soft knock to the oak door made the ex-Robin, and that’s what she was now she realised, jump. Grabbing the sheet and covering herself. She began internally cursing herself. She’d let herself get comfortable, complacent. She had no clue where she was and had let her guard down anyway.

“Come in,” she stuttered. Her voice wasn’t croaky, throat healthy and lips moist. Yet the sudden surge of fear made her voice shake.

It was the woman. The white-haired woman she’d seen in the warehouse. This must be the afterlife, it was the only explanation Jacinta could think of. Her luck had run out. There was no way she’d been saved from that suffocating, lonely death.

“It is good to see you awake my dear.” Her voice still held that floating lilt. Sounding as if it was next to her and in another realm. “I am Elma Todde, the first of this family’s Daywalkers. You are safe here my child.”

Jacinta stalled out. The woman still set off all the instincts she’d cultivated on the street. She was dangerous, dangerous in a way the fifteen-year-old had never encountered before.

“Is there any chance you can turn that off? It’s uh,” Jacinta paled. She’d just insulted her host.

Instead of taking offence Elma laughed. Slowly changing from an unearthly, floating lilt into a soft solid sound. “Sorry about that my dearest cousin. Sometimes I forget to turn it off. I had thought the Joker a monster of the kind we hunt. No such luck, he is just the worst kind of monster humanity can produce. You were my priority otherwise I would have collected the necessary weapons from here and ended him.” She waved a hand through the air, as if waving the thought away. Her accent now that of a person whose first language is German but is speaking English. “Enough of that now child. You have much to learn.”

As it turns out, ‘much to learn’ had been an understatement. Jacinta’s family history was even more bizarre than she’d ever known. Elma was the granddaughter of Quincey Harker, her great-grandmother being Wilhelmina Harker née Murray. The very same Quincey and Mina from the legends of Van Helsing and Dracula.

Van Helsing had trained Quincey in the duty of protecting innocents from the many monsters that threatened the Earth. His mother being turned by Dracula himself meant that the vampiric blood that flowed through her veins was as pure as it could be. The only way to get much more pure was to get the blood of the original vampire himself.

The curse within Mina was so strong that it overwhelmed the women of the Harker family at the moments just before death. There were two options for them; become a Daywalker hunting down the forgotten underbelly of the world, or become the same monster that turned Mina. Often not being presented with them and forcing Elma to hunt them down.

Jacinta had gotten lucky. Elma had felt the call within her, the call of a family member on the edge of death. Elma was the first woman of the Todde lineage as her mother, Quincy’s sixth child, married the Englishman. The Todde lineage as cunning as the animal their looks were compared to.

As if another curse had befallen the family, Jacinta was the first woman of that line in since Elma’s birth in 1490. Every successive family had men until Willis. The rest of her cousins being a mix while the Todde’s were cursed to only have men. With Elma dying just before her wedding and becoming the first Daywalker.

“I feel as if Death and Gaia wanted a break from all the distraction our family curse created by creating me. It was Death who gave me the choice to become what we are.” Elma mentioned one afternoon months after saving Jacinta. With how Blazé Elma was with her attitude it took Jacinta a moment to realise to what Elma was referring. At first having thought she was talking about the show they were watching.

The teen didn’t reply. How could she to a statement like that after all she’d learnt. So she stayed silent, planning to meditate into the no-thought zen state Elma had taught her and talk it over with Professor Abraham. Having Van Helsing in such easy reach was useful when dealing with the contradictory Elma.

***

After years of training, years of following Elma to every hunt and watching her dispatch of all manner of night-stalkers, years of building her knowledge; it was finally time. Elma slipped away with Jacinta at her bedside. The two women holding hands.

It was as it was written. As it would always be. There could only be one Daywalker at their peak. One hunter of the hunters. One protecter of the prey. One who was inbound by the customs of their curse.

“You have done me proud child. Go forth and hunt Jay.” Elma got a small smile on her face, as if she was hearing her own joke before giving voice to it. “Don’t let the darkness get you down. We are the sunlight,”

“We are the fire.” Jay repeated. Watching as the woman that saved her passed away. Her expression peaceful as if seeing an old friend.

Power surged through Jay. A strength she’d never had access to now all her’s. A lock of her hair turning a pure white from her forehead to the ends. Marking her as what she was, Death’s reminder of what she’d survived and now had to do.

The new abilities granted to her were feeling overwhelming. Remembering one of Elma’s first lessons, Jay set up her mediation space. The practice a way for her to centre herself and pull everything back into herself.

As the twenty-one-year-old sat there, mind clearing, power settling into her every atom. Jay felt as if a flame was dancing across her skin. Choosing to ignore it and focus on her task.

When she opened her eyes she saw marks settling into her chest. Every area that the fire had danced across blooming flowers and inscriptions in shades of green. One that same neon green she’d seen in the warehouse.

The sun set on her first night alone as she sat atop a roof in Chicago. A pack of werewolves had moved in too close to the human population and Jay was hoping to get them to move along with minimal violence. When night had settled in the changes were finally complete. Her skin was dull, a grey washing out her naturally darker colouring.

Clad in black combat trousers, a grey top, brown leather jacket, and red domino mask Jay was ready to prove Elma had been right in saving her. She stood, brushing off her legs and looked towards her targets. A jump over the thirty foot gap, nothing for her now, and she was off.

Five werewolves lounged around the abandoned house. Jay could sense every one of them, including which was the leader. Elma had taught her many ways to handle these situations but had always enjoyed the fearless way Jay would walk right in. It seemed fitting for her first hunt without the ancient woman to start that same way.

Jay strolled up to the front door and knocked, waiting politely as she tried to hide the laughter she felt at the creatures confusion. Creatures were all they were now, all she was, too far removed from humans to truthfully use that name.

The second of the pack opened the door. He was on all fours, looking closer to a wolf than the legends often depicted. Shiny red coat, wet black nose, and piercing yellow eyes. It was clear where the fear of such creatures had come from. They were truly magnificent to behold. Coming up to her lower ribs while on all fours. Shoulders wide enough to block the door.

They looked Jay over and seemed to realise who, or what, they were facing. As much as their face could, fear filled their expression as their eyes flew wide. Jay watched as they sat on their haunches and bowed their head.

An invitation in any language. She didn’t need an invitation to cross the threshold, unlike her sun-hating counterparts, it was just polite to receive one. Jacinta inclined her own head and stepped through the door.

Wet dog. Blood. Sweat. Agony. Love. They were what filled her nose as she walked through the house. Her feet taking her straight to the alpha.

Jacinta didn’t wait for an acknowledgement. Walking right up to them and throwing herself into a nearby armchair. “Look, there is two ways we can do this. Y’all can leave and live somewhere nice and remote, or I kill everyone here.” She raised her head enough to maintain the appearance that she wasn’t watching the every move of the hulking beast in front of her. “Your choice, either way y’all are out of here tonight.” The years in England failing to change her accent from her Narrows drawl.

The alpha barked a laugh. His voice was slightly mangled due to talking with an elongated muzzle and not a human mouth. Luckily though Jay had spent some of her time studying how to understand all the creatures she’d be hunting. “Why would we leave? We’re not bothering anyone and people deliver themselves to…”

The hunter smirked at the wolf. “That’s why.” She reaches forwards and flicked his nose. “Silly puppy, you aren’t the alpha in this room while I’m here. I’ll give you one more chance to leave peacefully. Go hunt some deer, your pack doesn’t have to suffer for your ego.”

The wolf snarled then tilted his head back. An almost deafening howl split the night. A call to a pack. A call to fight.

The other four wolves appeared in the room, taking up defence around their alpha. Jay huffed, her body language reading nothing but how much they were putting her out. She really did think they were being stupid by not taking the safe route.

Jacinta rolled from the chair. Her body all lithe grace. She stood relaxed, muscles loose and hands held palm facing the wolves. She could feel in every atom of her arms what would happen, something she’d never done but seen Elma do during nearly every fight against all manner of night-stalkers.

The green markings down the inside of her forearms began to glow. Lighting up from the inside. Pulling from the new power she now held. It traveled into her palms. Slowly leaving her body and taking shape. When the light dimmed Jacinta held twin swords. Their dark green hilts offsetting the white/green glow of the blades.

Daywalker energy took the form of the shape preferred by the user. For Elma it had been a set of twin daggers, something to enable her to get up close and personal. For Jacinta it appeared to be swords. The woman having taken to a more economical fighting style, finishing opponents in a few swift moves, to protect herself and the memories she held of her Robin days. There had been an ancient sword in their office that Jacinta had taken a shine to straight away.

The sword had been one of the Professor’s very own. He’d left it to his godson Quincey upon his death. They’d been part of how he’d dealt with the wives of Dracula and were said to contain some of that energy. Jay found the whole thing ridiculous but had still felt a draw to the weapon that’d allow her to deal more fatal damage.

Elma had reached out to an old friend, that turned out to be Ra’s al Ghul, who in turn put her in contact with Deathstroke and Lady Shiva. Both master martial artists and swordsmen. They had both taught her well, the sword ending up feeling like an extension of herself.

A sharp growl and the first wolf leapt. The others roaming around and circling the fight. Dodging in and out to try and attack the hunter. Her blades cut through the air. A swirling green vortex of speed the human eye would struggle to see detail from.

One wolf fell. Wounds too great to get back up.

Then another. Jumping into the path of her sword as she went for the alpha that lunged at her.

The final three fell just as quickly. A blade to the heart of one. Slice to the neck of another. Finally all that remained was the alpha.

Jay stalked across the room. Backing her prey into a corner. They say never corner an animal, those people had never met Jacinta.

Tip of a blade to the throat as the animal was pushed back onto its haunches. A snarl pulling back its frothing lips. Sharp teeth bloody from the blows it had already taken.

“Can’t say I didn’t give you your chance Douglas.” Jay had never understood the Gotham crowd’s need to taunt. Hadn’t understood it when it was the villains or when it was her annoying, often absent older brother doing it in the form of quips. Now, as she stood as the most powerful one in the room, she understood. It instilled that last bit of fear. That last stab wound to an already dying man. A final way to show the bigger person they were being defeated by nothing more than a child.

In this case it was a way for her to inflict the most pain to a monster that prides itself on protecting its pack. No time for an answer, a contact waiting for her to start the arduous drive to a city she had yet to return to, Jay swiped the sword to the side. Blood spraying out in a violent speed. Artery and vein severed.

The once man slumping to the ground. The wolf already dissolving to ash. Afterlife energy converting the monsters into the dust to prevent further harm from humans with nefarious motives.

Gotham City was just as gloomy and grey as Jay remembered it being. Twelve hours in a car having felt more inviting than this hell-mouth of a city. Her contact had been one Elma trusted, despite how she said it made her palms itch due to the demon blood mixed with his own.

Paulie’s Diner had been a place she’d frequented often when she’d been escaping from the new world living with Bruce forced her into. The vinyl red booths, checkerboard floor, and ever-present crowd made it easy to disappear. Going unnoticed easier when everyone wanted to be ignored.

Jay sat at the back of the room, the bench to the false wall and her view of every exit clear. Since stepping into the city her blood had been singing. A constant, minor tingle of the other world that called the city home.

There were many like it around the world. Places those she hunted could call home so long as they lived as peacefully as they could. Vampires got their blood from the guilty. Werewolves ran in the disused service tunnels. She’d even met a handful of Sucubi who worked as prostitutes while they’d been in Perth.

This city was no different. It’s close proximity to a hell gate made it have an energy that drew them in. The streets seeming to form as they needed them. Of course it also had the effect of drawing the worst of humanity, even if they didn’t understand why they were drawn to such a place. A gate requiring such negative energy to maintain its pathway to the underworld.

Jay was just considering if she could eat a plate of chicken and waffles along with the chilli dog she already had on order when her contact walked in the diner. She didn’t need to look up to know he’d arrived. Her palms itching and the low singing within her blood ratcheting up a notch. As she looked towards the new arrival she barked out a laugh.

Of course it’d be him. She’d recognise that dirty blonde hair, cream trench coat, and general aura of having no fucks left to give. The man slid into the other bench.

“Constantine, as I don’t live or breathe.” Jay couldn’t help joking. Elma had never mentioned the man’s name but it made sense now. Only John Constantine would have caused Elma as many problems as the woman ranted about. He even managed to rile the Bat up more than Hal Jordan ever could.

“Fucking hell mate, Robin right?” His Liverpudlian accent as thick as her Bowery one.

“Not anymore. Joker saw to that and Elma took me in.” She waved a hand, brushing away any potential questions regarding her time with the clown.

“So you’ve got the same kind of sun-block and iron deficiency as El?” He was looking her over. Clearly cataloging all the ways she was similar to the other woman, all the ways she was different.

Jay chuckled, settling in to explain the basics to the mage. John listened with rapt attention. He’d always been closer to Elma than most humans got to be, their work often forcing them into the same situations. She’d just always seemed closed off. The way Jay was talking about her though, the amount of affection gushing from her, you’d have thought they’d met different women.

“So, yeah,” Jay fumbled, this was the first time she’d spoken to anyone about Elma and wasn’t sure she wanted to say the next bit but knew she had to. “E was just waiting for another Todd woman, one she could pass her knowledge onto. I reached my full power when,” she took a shaky gasp. Not able to say the words. Hands waving to try and approximate it. To say everything that needed saying without using words.

Luckily Constantine was more intelligent than most people gave him credit for, himself included. He nodded. Finishing the conversation for her just as the waitress appeared with Jacinta’s chilli dog and two cups of black coffee. The mage raised an eye at the woman happily indulging in human food, never having seen Elma do it.

“I have been craving a dog from here since E took me in. Nothing like ‘em in the world.” She then realised why the other man was confused; and it wasn’t because of the almost pornographic noises she’d been making during her first couple of bites. “You did know I didn’t live on just the red sauce right? Like, sure it’s good but I can still survive on other food. I even managed to make a substitute so we didn’t have to use long-pig suppliers.”

John sat back in the booth stunned. He knew a lot about the occult. More than he’d even wanted when he’d first started dabbling as a stupid, bored younger man. This was new for him though. Then again, a lot of thing coming from this meeting were new.

They soon moved onto business. The mage needed help with an angel of decay. The literal embodiment of rot and putrid waste they are a bastard to take down if you’re not strong enough to withstand both; it’s mental coercion in the form of their corrupting aura, and it’s physical form as they are often over nine feet tall and weigh in at five-hundred pounds minimum.

It’s safe to say that an angel of decay setting up in the bowel of Gotham was not a good thing. With the level of death experienced daily by the populace they’d grow in strength exponentially. Becoming far more powerful that anyone has seen. John would not be able to take on the Rot Harbinger alone; his magic not enough to overcome their sheer bulk.

After John graciously paid, the pair decided on a quick nap. To avoid anyone discovering their belongings that looked like they belonged to someone less than sane, they chose to retire to a house still in the Todd family. Unknown to the family outside of Elma, and now Jacinta.

It was the second most famous house in Gotham. The gothic mansion had stood on the outskirts of the city for as long as the inhabitants could remember. Decrepit and abandoned, it looked like any other supposedly haunted house found around the world. Plants growing through windows. Glass missing, doors hanging off hinges. There was even a drained pool that managed to look mouldy while missing tiles and having been dry for generations.

A quick swish of her hand and the entire house changed only for the pair’s eyes. It now stood proud, looking as if it had just been built. The gothic architecture was intact, the dark woods blending in with the incredible attention to detail and brick walls. The furniture that had looked to be falling apart and thrown around by an occult entity now appeared to have just left the workshop.

John was a little stunned. He knew of the house in Gotham. It’s haunting that of legend. How everyone that entered left mad and ranting about ghosts that tried to suck their blood or bite them.

When Jacinta had suggested the place he’d been skeptical. Even with knowing she had access to any and all resources both Elma and the Professor has accrued around the globe it didn’t settle the unease at staying in such a potential hot zone. He had hardly believed his eyes when she’d waved her hand in a complex sequence and the house transformed. He knew, if it had been properly cared for it would have stood apart from all the other architecture in the city. A glamour to the residence that John knew spoke of the monsters that had once roamed the halls.

When night fell the pair set off. Jacinta, while learning under Elma, had built a surprisingly long list of contacts. One of those contacts had reached out to their Gotham clan, offering their services to the Daywalker in return for her continued acceptance and help.

They had just stopped on one of the roof tops when a fluttering of a cape appeared behind them. Jay knew it was possible for the man to discover and come after them; she just hoped it be later. They’d been having a good night too. The Gotham branch was just as helpful as her contact suggested.

The sun had to be on the horizon for the angel of decay to be dispersed with minimal effort. So they had to wait until the following sunset, hence relaxing on the roof as they discussed strategy. It was just annoying that the Imps they’d met with hadn’t been free until after midnight as it meant giving the angel more time to gather further power.

Jay had taken off her mask once they’d settled in. Comfortable around John and their distance from civilisation or those that would wish to try and harm the new Daywalker. She was regretting that decision with her former mentor on the roof.

“Constantine what are you doing in my city?” The Bat growled out. The voice still made Jacinta stiffen as if she was about to be scolded. A movement she knew wouldn’t go unnoticed by the other man.

John turned and got to his feet, trying rather sweetly to shield Jay from her ex-father figure. “Bats I’m doing what you do, saving this cesspool.” If she wasn’t one-hundred per cent sure that Bruce would recognise her laugh the sheer level of sarcasm coming from the mage would have made her bawl.

The Bat made that noise she knew meant he was displeased and trying to form words. Every part of her was screaming to stay secret. To keep her turning to herself. However, that was all overruled by the part of her that was still his kid at heart and couldn’t resist fucking with him. She rolled inhumanly fast to her feet, spinning at the same time so she was facing him.

“Hey Pops, long time no see.” She drawled. Cocky two finger salute with her Robin stance thrown in.

Jay wished she’d had a camera. The big bad Bat of Gotham was frozen solid. His face contorted into something quite amusing. It was clear his brain was taking in that it was her, it was just refusing to believe what it was seeing.

“Well aren’t you going to say anything? Or is your new nightly tactic to stand around like a big boob?” The Robin need to talk had apparently decided to come flooding back. She’d been more subdued in the intervening years. Too much to learn about a world even the Bat hadn’t known about and her concentration directed elsewhere. The man just bought it out in her.

He stuttered out her name and took a step forward. His mind still frozen over the fact his dead protégé was in front of him with John Constantine of all people. “What? How? You, you died. Joker, I watched the warehouse blow as I was driving to get you.”

Her heart would have beat painfully if it still did such a thing. Still, she froze as she watched him process. Practically able to see the loading wheel in his eyes.

Bruce took a step towards her. Fear and love warring within him as he saw his daughter for the first time in six years. Still not understanding how it could be.

“Do you want some DNA B?” She cocked her head to the side, raven and white curls falling off her shoulder and over one eye. Oozing a confidence his Jay had never managed to have outside the Robin suit and patrol.

His hands were shaking as he reached for her. “How? Jay, just how?” He touched her cheek. Hand flying back at the chill that ran under her skin. His Jay has always been warm, running hotter than average, not so cold she almost hurt to touch.

Bruce watched bewildered as she shared a look with John, the man huffing and starting towards the roof access. “I’ll tell you in the cave B, but not here.”

The ride back to the Manor, to her old home, felt stifling. She could feel Bruce watching her. Analysing all the ways she’d changed, cataloging her behaviours and cross-checking them against the Jacinta he’d known. To save them both the trouble and stress she pulled out a special kris Elma had given her as her first weapon.

A quick flick of her fingers and the hilt was now held the right way for what she wanted to do. “Pick a spot B-man so we can get the blood tests out the way.” She saidhas she held the knife in one of the many compartments, sterilising the blade.

He roughly grunted neck and she obliged. Nicking the skin enough for the couple of drops of blood the tests would need. She could feel Bruce’s gaze on her, watching the sluggish way her body provides even the smallest sample.

Once the blood collection was complete she shoved the blade into the slot that opened after flicking the correct sequence of buttons. Even after six years the man hadn’t moved anything around. With that done she moved on.

Inside another compartment were swabs Bruce had designed himself. She swiped inside her mouth with three separate ones, each cheek and under her tongue, and put them back. Now they just had to wait.

First the computer ran the provided samples against all the shape shifters known to the Bat. Testing for the unique markers he’d identified. The screen read NO MATCH FOUND.

Next was the DNA of everyone in his database. Where most tests took a few days; because of lab delays and the speed of the operating systems, this one spat out results within minutes. She watched Bruce out the corner of her eye, attempting to appear unaffected.

MATCH FOUND: Jacinta Todd-Wayne

Her picture flashed under her name. An old one from her fifteenth birthday. A smile on her face as she sat there oblivious to what would happen the following April.

It hurt to look at. Hurt to see the carefree, adoring gaze that she knew was pointed to the man behind the camera. The man now sat beside her trying to hide his elation.

Jay didn’t blame him. She had one hell of a story to tell and, although he worked with them regularly and had taken one in, the man still refused to allow metas in his city. Especially ones with untested powers.

The remainder of the drive was quiet. The DNA match would have pinged both the central computer and Oracle’s systems. Jay had no doubt the other Bats and Birds would be racing back to the nest.

She wasn’t disappointed. As the car pulled up and Bruce parked she could see Alfred being supported by Dick as the elder sat in the main chair. Surrounding him were all the new, gullible kids that flew under the mission she’d died for.

Worst was how her gaze immediately found the torn Robin suit. It’s bloody additions to the red, green, and yellow displayed and lit up for all to see. Clearly within sight line of most places in the cave.

Forgetting herself, Jacinta used her new enhanced speed to reach the case. The epitaph reading A Good Solider caused a familiar anger to ignite within her.

Was that really all she’d been?

Was that really all she was worth?

Not a daughter. Not a friend. Not a sister. Just a solider who’d died in the line of duty. Placed on a long running mission that would always be futile. For as long as the gates to the underworld remained, their purpose on Earth more accurate to the Ancient Greeks than they’d realised, then there would always be ‘evil’.

“What the hell?” She knew that voice. That shrill weird mix of Upper Gotham and Romani that meant Dick Grayson was close to blowing up.

Jay span around and slowly walked back to the group. Her movements easy to read. The last thing she wanted was to fight with the people she’d once considered family.

When she reached the group she held out her arms. “Your Little Wing ain’t so little anymore.” Elma had been surprised by her growth spurt. Most undead stopping at the point they turned. The professor had theorised that it was because of who Jay would become and how she’d yet to stop growing. She could admit she’d been salty when she’d stopped below the average in height and weight for a woman. Teaching herself that it was better than stagnating at the size she’d been when she was fifteen.

“Story. Now.” Bruce growled, as eloquent as always when he wasn’t getting the answers he wanted instantly or was having to face emotions he could t handle. Both of which Jay’s presence were causing him.

It was a long tale. Many of them butting in to ask questions. Each seeming uniquely intrigued by Elma and the true lineage of the Todd’s. It wasn’t every day you met someone trained by a person older than the Demon’s Head. A name she found more ridiculous now than she did as Robin as he was no Demon; he was just a man. A man clinging onto a life he should have lost millennia ago.

Just as she was wrapping up the story her blood got that familiar tingle. Evil lurking nearby. A mythological presence that set her off worse than a Ghostbusters PKE meter.

Looking up she found Damian Wayne, the current Robin, stood by his father looking insulted by her presence. “You’re an al Ghul aren’t you.”

Not a question. A fact. The tingling in her blood because of the high levels of Lazarus energy found inside the family. The boy scoffed at her, arms folded across his chest and looking the picture of an indignant prince. Only the small clenching of his hands giving away his trepidation towards her.

“He’s my son, with Talia.” Bruce said rather awkwardly as if he was still processing the news.

“Oh that explains it then. The al Ghul’s have a high concentration of Lazarus energy stored within them in case Ra’s ever needs a new host body. My abilities could sense it. Wanting to cleanse the person it was attached to. Lazarus is no joke; it’s a direct line to the soul extractor in the underworld. They’re the tortured soul of those done with their punishment and should not be accessed by any mortal. Getting rid of Ra’s is on my to-do list.” The last part was said absentmindedly. She’d been wanting to put him down for years but he made himself useful to Elma and her so it had proved pointless.

Jay returned to her tale, woe and misery playing not part in her new life as the Daywalker. She explained her connections to her new family. Managing to explain why Willis had hated her. His family had abandoned him after he became the first one in so many generations to have a girl. They didn’t know of the curse, they just thought it was hilarious that the weakest of them had had a girl.

When she was finished she could see the speculation and disbelief on their faces. Could see the hurt in Bruce, Alfred, and Dick. Although she didn’t understand why Dick looked so hurt. They’d never been overly close. If anything he only just tolerated her because Alfred made him.

“Why didn’t you come home?” Jason’s head snapped to Tim. Her replacement. The boy who’d been quick to jump into her shoes. “Bruce needed you. Why didn’t you come back?” He sounded mildly angry but she could see the undercurrent of fear and rejection. The way he’d curled into himself and was avoiding looking at the big man.

“It’s simple really. He didn’t need me. He had you.” Both blanched at the statement. Clearly not expecting her to be as blunt as she was. Her voice devoid of the emotions she’d been using before. “I nearly did come back. Elma even offered to come with, we have an ancestral home on the outskirts of the city where she’d have stayed so I could continue training. I thought about it for months. Coming back and having my family again, but you’ve moved into my place. The female Robin who died on the job and was replaced after a few months by a kid who was everything she wasn’t. You can’t have waited long to approach the big man if you were flying in the colours after six months.”

Jay laughed, bitterness and all those other destructive emotions she’d felt at the time tearing their ugly head once again. “Then you replaced me in his public family too. The girl street rat, born of two criminals replaced by the proper bred boy who’d lived in the same circles as a true Wayne should be.” Yeah she’d seen the media. The way Gotham tabloids had approved of his newest choice. Replacing his street rat with a kid unlikely to die early as she’d have done on the streets. How she was always going to die young and he shouldn’t have bothered with her. “What was there for me to come back to? From where I’m standing he did just fine after I left.”

If none of them had been as trained as they were they’d have stumbled back. Shocked at the way she’d believed her life had been mourned. “I was nothing to him, all the evidence I need that I was nothing more than a pawn in the tantrums of an eight-year-old boy who never grew up is right there. All I was was another solider. It’s all any of you are.”

“No! Little Wing just no.” Dick sounded strangled. His body still as it struggled to choose between his need to move when upset and his need to bring reason to the woman. “We all missed you, mourned you. We still do.” It felt to Jay like a quick add-on. A way to make her think she was loved or missed more than she clearly had been.

Unable to take anymore she walked away. When she’d been younger Jay would have stayed. Would have argued until she was blue in the face if she felt she was in the right. She didn’t have the time or patience for that now. Her world was larger than the city. More dangerous than a clown with an obsession and a man refusing the break the promise of a child but failing spectacularly.

Jacinta was nearly back to the parking area. Walking slowly so as not to set the family into fight mode. The fear they’d all expressed when she’d slipped up at her arrival still burned into her mind’s eye.

A hand grasped her elbow, her whole body seizing. That damned prehistoric response causing her to turn, the move one Bruce had taught her spliced with her own knowledge from the streets of how to get away from pursuits.

Inhuman speed and strength as she spun. The person getting flipped over her shoulder and to the cave floor. When she looked down she realised it was Tim. The teen seemingly determined to rile her up.

“What do you think you are doing?” Jay enunciated, wanting to ensure whatever clouding he saw the world through didn’t block her words from his ears. The teen was panting for breath, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. “I just finished explaining to you how I’m the hunter of hunters and your first response is to follow me and grab my arm. What were you hoping to do? Stop me? Make me see through the rose-tinted glasses once more?”

She could feel the other’s moving. Could sense them preparing the failsafes Bruce had set up after his brief trip to a world overrun with vampires. It was almost comical really. Jay looked up at her once-father. “You know none of that will stop me, right? It might do some good against a normal vamp but I’ve never been normal.”

With one solid foot planted into the floor Jacinta pushed off with her lead leg. The speed she’d been keeping in check flowing free as she vaulted for one of the bikes. She was just hacking one of the BatBikes when a quiet voice stopped her. Her enhanced hearing catching the words over the cacophony of other noise.

“Why return at all then? If they meant so little to you?” Said so quietly, so brokenly that she worried for a moment that she’d truly done him more damage than she’d intended. Tim was slowly getting back to his feet, the blonde she knew was called Stephanie supporting him.

“He interrupted a job I’m working with Constantine. It was easier, and would be more peaceful, to reveal myself. Otherwise I’d have never come back. I have nothing to come back to. You made sure of that.” With her final parting statement stabbing through the Bat’s heart, she kicked the engine and took off.

The droning of the TV was filtering through the house. An addition Elma had made to every one of their bases after they were invented and then upgraded them each time. Jay followed the noise and found John fast asleep on the sofa, curled up and snoring away.

Her strength allowed the smaller woman to carry John to his bed. Tucking him in and whispering a good night to him. They’d need their energy if they were to take on the angel of decay that evening so Jacinta turned in too.

The woman woke to a gentle hand shaking her awake. Her eyes flying open as she panted. Jay hadn’t had nightmares since setting the decision to stay away from the Bats all those years ago. Of course seeing them again fetched back the old hurts, old fears.

John was leaning over her. Cigarette dangling from his lips and his brow creased in worry. “You were screaming Darlin’ and not in a good way.” His attempt at making her chuckle falling flat as she looked at him with glassy, unseeing eyes.

He ran his hand through her hair. Pushing the curls away from her face and cupping the back of her neck. Using his hold he pulled her forward so she could rest her forehead on his shoulder.

It was bizarre to see someone who didn’t breathe on the verge of a panic attack forcing themselves to breathe slowly. The motions muscle memory from a time before. John had seen weirder, didn’t mean it didn’t still confuse him a little.

With a shuddering gasp Jay sat back up. Life back in her eyes and the memories of ghosts past back where they belonged. “Sorry John, think seeing the Bats last night just,” Her voice was wavering. Still lacking the strength it had held yesterday.

“No worries Love. I get it, we’ve all got those people that bring up the bad parts of our past. It’s why Chas ain’t my driver no more.” He still hadn’t stopped touching her, his hand sliding down to hold her bicep. A grounding touch to keep her in the present.

They both needed to be on their game later in the day. Too much was at stake if they weren’t. Getting someone like John, with all his trauma, added to their rotting core had the potential to make them the strongest angel of decay in existence. This one was already out of control, fuelling the city’s death toll.

Getting ready to go out was slow going for Jacinta. Worries about encountering the Bats filling her mind. She was happy she didn’t need any electrical devices that night. They’d surely have found a way for Barbara to hack them. Any and all electrical machines wouldn’t work around such a powerful entity.

Unsurprisingly to both the mage and vampire the angle of decay had set up under Gotham General hospital. The place saw so much death on a daily basis it should have been obvious. However, checking in with the local Imp population never went amiss. The demons could sometimes forget their need to hide, safety found in conformity, and could require a gentle reminder of the power watching them.

As soon as the pair got within half a mile the section of abandoned subway line that ran under the hospital John gagged. The stench of rotting flesh strong enough to taste, even through the menthol rub he’d smeared on his face. He’d even enhanced the stuff with some of the more ancient herbs to prevent the smell getting to him. The mage was sure he’d be tasting the stuff for days to come.

With the smell now surrounding them, and a sense of the crushing power ahead, John started writing sigils on the walls. Anyone or anything that wandered this way would turn away, forgetting they’d been there at all. He also wrote one on the floor for if they needed a quick escape plan.

Walking forward they could hear talking, as if someone was mumbling to themselves. If the angel of decay had gotten to that level of power their job just got a whole lot harder. The pair shared a look, both knowing there was a chance John wouldn’t walk out whole.

Jay marched into the main hub where the stench of decay was at its strongest. Her palms already burning for her swords to unsheathe. To unleash the blinding light of salvation upon a monster that had fed for far too long.

“You got a name?” Jacinta shouted. There was no sign of the angel; just the ever present scent of it.

Thick black-green smoke and ash swirled in front of her. The angel taking its solid form. Grotesque face with melted, torn up features. Wings that curved where they couldn’t open due to the size of the tunnel, no feathers across the hollow bones. Just torn up flesh, thick black ooze dripping off them onto the floor. Their body was rake thin, more skeleton than muscle. Abdomen caving in under the ribs and hitting out at the hips. Long navy blue claws, almost as long as Jay’s forearm curled from its hands. Long grooves along the surfaces.

Where an angel of the Gods looked like a beacon of hope, the jewels of heaven itself. This looked like an angel of destitution. Any mortal would look upon them and rapidly start to decay. For an angel of the Gods you could lose your sight from the blinding saintliness that radiated from them; for this one you’d lose your mind and body. It thrived off the natural process that happened to all dead creatures making it more powerful than most expected from something that looked to be clinging to life.

It hissed. It’s speech now indistinguishable. Every noise thickening the stench of death in the air.

For John it felt like wading through custard. Too much effort for too little movement. From his position he could see them both, watching and waiting for the signal.

A flick of her wrist and Jacinta was moving. Her blades appearing mid-air as she lunged for the monster. Both flashing through one of the wings as it failed to move in time.

The mage slipped from his hiding place. Spell already near completion on his lips and in his hand. The final words being spoken as he raised the glowing sigil into the air and aimed at the perversion of the life cycle. Fire burning in the shape of runes across its chest as the spell caught on thousands of the individual parts of decay within it.

The monster turns back to the awful stench around them. Trying to gather strength from the stores it hadn’t pulled from. None quite enough to mitigate the amputated wing and released rot.

Another spell pulled it back to corporeal form. Screeching loud enough to burst John’s eardrums and shake his very bones. If it couldn’t find the power it needed from the dead it would make John join them.

Jay intercepts it’s large talon-like nails as they slash for John. Her speed not quite fast enough as it slashed across his chest. She sees green. Her energy peaking as the monsters true power opens up to her. Bursting forth in a flurry of moves.

Each one landing.

The angel of decay crying out as she shows no mercy, knowing it would have shown her the same. Knowing if she stops John won’t be given mercy. Mercy didn’t apply to an abomination such as this.

Green clashed with black ooze and revolting stench. Ash and spring air exploding from every blow. The sweet scent of new life overtaking the rotting blackness. A cleansing fire to the evil it encountered.

John watched on. His magic depleted to the point he’d only have enough left for their emergency escape. He refused to use it on himself even though it was clear Jay was as good as Elma had been. Her previous training with the Bat and more criminal tutors shining through.

One final swing of her right blade, the left getting embedded in its abdomen straight after and the angel of rot was no more. Its head detached and its soul point run through. Black ooze and a faint stench of death the only evidence there had been such a thing at all.

Jacinta looked down at herself and scowled. She was covered, splatters of its vile excretions from head to toe. There was even some in her boots.

Turning and seeing John laying amongst the muck had her eyes widening and racing to his side. He looked worse for wear. The demons blood that was mixed with his own the only reason he was holding on to consciousness at all.

“Shit John! Let’s get you out of here.” She tried to calmly tell him. Scooping into her arms similar to the night before and racing from the tunnel system.

It was damned lucky her speed made her difficult to see as running through the streets of Gotham as filthy as she was carrying a bleeding man would be weird even by their standards. Silent prayers to keep the Bats off her back being sent out continuously. Her speech reserved for keeping John conscious.

The following morning John awoke to a pounding headache. Flopping his head to the side he saw Jacinta sat in an armchair sipping on what looked like a Bloody Mary. “You got one of them for me?” He croaked out.

Laughing, the woman handed him a bottle of water. “You wouldn’t want this mimosa. After your lazy arse needed me to break into a blood bank I figured why waste the excess. Plus there are some amazing vintages of champagne in the cellar.” Jay sipped happily from her glass, the real blood adding a flush to her skin he’d not seen. “Besides you shouldn’t have alcohol while on pain meds.” She rolled her eyes but John didn’t care. There was something about her that he just couldn’t look away from.

“You have any problems after I became a dead weight?” The water felt glorious, washing away the remaining stench clinging to his throat. One good shower and he had the impression his early estimate of how long the smell would hang around had been too long. Then again it could have been the blood loss talking.

“Funny.” She deadpanned back. The snark a relief after watching over him all night. Her fangs itching to drop with all the blood in the air. “But no, no one came after me. They couldn’t have if they tried.” She slumped back in the chair, pushing her hair from her face. “I should probably let them find me tonight, I just don’t want back into that life.”

“Preaching to the choir here Doll. You don’t want back in, don’t go back.” He smirked at her, all that cheekiness coming back as he woke more. “‘Sides from the amount you talk I’m sure you said it all the other night”

Jacinta gasped, hand flying to her chest in mock outrage. “You’re a scoundrel John Constantine.”

They said their goodbyes a few days later once John was well enough to teleport himself to the House of Mystery. It was weird, waiting on the roof of Wayne Enterprise. A folder of research Elma and her had collected over the past six years clutched in her hand. Jacinta hadn’t wanted John to leave but knew they both had their own lives to live. The folder containing her most important job to date.

“Bats.” She said without turning from her view of Gotham. His telltale cape swish loud enough for her to hear. “You’ve got one more chance. Lock it up for good or it falls into my jurisdiction.” Jacinta turned then, handing the folder to Batman.

The world thought Joker a man, hell even she and Elma had for a time. Instead he was a higher order chaos demon using Jack Napier as an unsuspecting host. There would be no saving Jack, not after the length of time the demon had been cohabiting. She knew the Bat wouldn’t be able to stop it but was willing to give him the time to try. If not, she was coming for the bastard and those who stood to oppose her should cower in fear.


End file.
